


Aw Man!

by AiyokuSama



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Crack, Hallucinations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiyokuSama/pseuds/AiyokuSama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's head is...an experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aw Man!

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for an Alien Abduction prompt over on LJ, but it kind of took on a life of it's own.

He had been in that godforsaken dinning room with the others. Okay so no one exactly invited him and Bruce hadn’t asked since the man knows how much he loathes fancy dress parties. Still Crane gassing everyone is just plain rude according to his inner Alfred. And being chained to the chair, there wasn’t any point to holding his breath to avoid the gas. So he took a deep breath and…

Finds himself on a Gotham roof top. With Batman. Smiling at him. Ooooookay then. Creepy yes, worst fear, no. He’s waiting for the Joker to show up or some shit like that. Maybe he’ll get swallowed back into his grave? Or a gang of floating crowbars attack him? Those would make sense. A smiling Batman reaching out and patting him on the back didn’t make any sense at all.

Sure, he and Bruce are reconciled….sort of. Jay is back in his room in the manor…sort of. And he even agreed to give up killing…entirely, actually. No sort of there. He’s still chaffing at that one but….oh hell, no big deal compared to being able to come home. Which means that when Robin shows up in his too red suit and smiles at him, that’s pretty close to normal. Okay so Tim hasn’t actually smiled at him yet, they also haven’t killed each other so it’s good. And Dick does put an arm about his shoulder in that usual, unconscious fashion of his, and smirks at him.

He’s surrounded by his family and they are happy to have him and….Is Crane fucking around with some kind of dreams-come-true gas? If he is, Jay might just nominate the psychotic pansy for most brilliant idea of the year. After all, the capes know his fear gas and how to fight it, but who in their right mind will fight experiencing the thing they always wanted most?

Following the others, he lands easily in the alley. Robin goes for his red cycle. Nightwing has that sexy new car of his. Bruce is standing by the Batmobile waiting for him to get in. Jay grins and reaches for the door of the sweet ride. 

Then the light comes, surrounding him. He could move, but it was limited. He tried to work the door open, get in the car, but the fucking thing is locked! Then he’s rising up in the air, his feet going above his shoulders as he hangs desperately onto the useless door handle. The intangible force that is pulling him up into the sky becomes stronger and his grip loses out. His last glimpse of the world below is of Bats, Golden Boy and the damn Replacement waving good bye to him! Jay grinds his teeth as he looks up. 

A glowing flying saucer is above him and the goddamn Encounters of the Third Kind theme playing from somewhere. Fucking perfect.

Okay, so it is fear gas after all, but what the hell? He got over The-Freaking-Little-Grays-Coming-To-Get-Me shit years ago, even before he tried to steel the tires off a certain car. So what if he’s seen Spielberg’s classic when he was three and it gave him nightmares. Big fucking deal. There are much worse things out there then this. Yet here he is, on the glowing panelling of the ship being looked at by all those spindly, large eyed creatures that terrified him as a child.

Aw hell. He stands up and sighs. “Okay, you’re going to put me back and I’m going to wake up. Or your going to try to keep me, I kick your sorry asses and THEN I wake up. Your choice.” Jay cracks his knuckles in that suitably intimidating fashion that usually scares the piss out of Gotham lowlifes. The aliens really don’t seem impressed. When another fucking light beam hits him, pining him in place, he can understand why.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the Joker, can hear him cackling. Yes he has a crowbar. Well at least the hallucination is starting to make sense. As the Grays part to let the psychopath through, Jay closes his eyes. Come on! The way Crane’s gas effects the mind is something similar to dreaming and if you try, you can take control of your dreams. So….

There is a weird chorus of gasps which cause him to open his eyes again. The aliens actually look concerned and the Joker is giggling and cooing over the….skunk?! The green haired murder is now holding a skunk like it’s a long lost family pet.

So not what I was going for, Jay thinks warily but at least it’s not a crowbar. Then the lunatic is shoving the damn thing in his face and yeah, it fucking sprays him. Jay starts choking and the light shuts off then the damn Grays are around him, talking like fucking emergency room nurses.

God DAMN it! He’s breathing FINE! Oh fuck it, he’s not even breathing, it’s a stupid dream! 

The burn in his lungs subsides and he grabs one of the Grays by what he presumes is the throat as the thing tried to intubate him. The angle is bad…oh like hell it is. It’s HIS fucking hallucination! He can be the next Hercules if he bloody well wants! It’s an interesting feeling, his muscles swelling with all that power and he wondering if this is what Venom is like. Not that he intends to test that theory in the real world.

Tossing the squirming alien into one of his follows he seizes the next one and does the same. The thing squealed like a little kid on a caravel ride. Was that a fucking giggle? It doesn’t matter, he just starts grabbing and tossing, clearing the area, giving himself room to move. Yeah, being able to move is a good thing, especially since the Joker is still there with his damn skunk. 

Then there is a yelp as the beast bites it’s handler. The psychopath yelps and drops the creature which vanishes before it hits the floor. It’s far to good an opportunity to pass up. Sure he killed the Joker on another Earth and yes, this is only in his head, but there is something very cathartic about launching himself at the image of his murderer and pummelling the shit out of that pasty face. He can even feel the bastard’s bones giving under his knuckles, hear the sickening but oh so gratifying wet crunch.

The grinning maniac is bleeding and goes still under him as he kneels over the hapless form. Jay has a moment to feel satisfaction at it all before he tackled by a dozen Grays…in Gotham Knights football uniforms. They swarm him trying to hold him down as another larger one approaches him with something that looks remarkably like a hypodermic needle. Oh hell no!

Dream. Dream. Remember it’s a dream. Hallucination actually, a small part of his mind whispered. What fucking EVER, he silently growls at the mental voice as he focuses everything he has on pushing the whole lot off of him. As he erupts from beneath the dog pile, the aliens go flying with the sound of a ball striking bowling pins. No time to think about it, he has to move, has to find a way out.

But this is all in your head, you have all the time in the world, that annoying voice informed him.

No, no, he really doesn’t. Scarecrow is at the dinner and who knows if any of those there will be able to come back to themselves in time to do anything useful. Bruce is there of course, but that guy has more demons then the rest of the JLA combined. His head is probably a very, very scary place right about now. Which means it’s up to Jason.

Which means we’re all screwed.

Shut. UP! 

He runs through the ship which looks suspiciously like the Enterprise D, trying to find the way out. Okay, okay, time to recall his passing familiarity with geeky pop culture. If he was going to get off the Enterprise he’d need to find a shuttle bay.

For a moment he stands in the corridor trying to think about which way would take him where he wants to go when a roaring Wookie comes barrelling past, followed by a dozen Storm Troopers. He steps out of the way and watches them pass. Oh man, he so should have seen that coming. Best get out of here before Darth Vader shows up. Course, that might actually be kind of cool. Jason can think of lots of nifty things to do with Force powers.

That stops him in his tracks. Well why the hell not? Let’s see. He rubs his hands together and concentrates on…um….being in the Batcave? He tries to think hard about the shimmering transporter beam he saw in the late night reruns. He grins like an idiot when it materializes and begins to traverse his body, deconstructing the molecules that don’t actually exist in the first place. Now that’s the shit, he silently crows to himself gleefully. And then it stops, things snapping back into place, with his liver on the outside of his body. 

Aww shit.

Fortunately it’s still attached and there is even a hole in his side. So he’ll just pops it back in, no big deal. But that hole is a distraction and he really doesn’t want his guts falling out. Best find something to stitch himself up with. A door appears on his left and opens, revealing a brightly lit medical bay. A quick search through the drawers show it as being very well stocked. Soon he’s perched on the counter with a needle, surgical thread and a mirror. Not exactly an easy angle to works with, but what can you do?

The pain of the needle and thread passing through his flesh is almost as fascinating as the visual the mirror provided. The little red stitches are even neat enough to make Alfred proud. Then the last one goes in, at which point both thread and wound disappear, leaving behind yet another scar to deface his flesh. 

Right, so not using the transporter idea again. He has other options. All he needs now is to find a way outside. That is easier said then done as this time no convenient door appeared for him. Skulking through the ship is something like a cross between Disneyland on drugs and Stephen King’s worst nightmare. And yet, Jay just can’t bring himself to care. Okay, yeah, he doesn’t really want to get eaten by that dog-lizard with all the foot long teeth but, eh, fuck it. In his life, death and rebirth, he’s manger to see and do things that most wouldn’t credit as real so the “horrors” of others have become depressingly common place to him.

Finally he comes to the godforsaken hanger bay, with Starfleet shuttles parked beside Imperial tie-fighters. And the Good Year blimp? He doesn’t even shake his head this time, not even when he registers the smell of diesel. His way out is on the other side of the bay, a large wall that is open to space except for the transparent force field that is keeping the atmosphere in the ship. Hmm, they’re in space. Space has no air. 

And…

It doesn’t matter. His head, his rules damnit. No way in hell is he just going to give up. Not for something as measly as a lack of oxygen. Or a force field, with controls he can’t understand. He stands before the control panel a moment trying to figure it out. But when more line-backer Grays come charging at him, he grabs the nearest heavy object (which turned out to be an oversized pink sledgehammer) and began smashing the controls. A siren sounds and then things go flying as the vacuum of space takes hold. 

The Gray’s squeal as they gets pulled off their feet, the ships groan in their positions as they too began to shift towards the undeniable pull. Undeniable by all but Jason it seems, for he remains were he is, unmoved, as everything else disappears into the star spangled blackness. Opening his arms wide, he closes his eyes and smiles, consciously letting go. Only then does he too leave the dubious safety of the ship.

Just as his body is about to start gasping for air, he can breath. Not idea how, but he’s not going to examine it to closely. Time to go home. Or to some close approximation of it.

Flying down toward the tiny blue speck that is Earth, he focuses on finding Gotham. It’s not that hard, just follow the stench. His home town stinks, always has, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to go anywhere else. Not even when he was hating on his family with a passion. Talia had given him funds enough that he could have gone anywhere, but still he came back here.

He glides down over the cliffs and crashing waves at the edge of the ancestral Wayne estate, looking for…yes, there it is in the old barn. He takes the little used entrance down to the Cave in the hopes of surprising Bruce who is sitting at the computer, cowl still on. Fat chance that.

“What took you so long?” The man rasps the words without even turning around.

Jay clenches his jaw. So much for smiles and back pats. Bruce is just as infuriating as ever, it doesn’t matter that it’s a figment of his imagination or what that figment was like before. Stalking over, he spins the chair around and is treated to the man’s customary scowl. It’s a fucking hallucination. So, it doesn’t matter, right? Fine then. He leans in and kisses the hard, uncompromising lips, trying to coax them into softening.

“Bruce and Jason sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” two voice chorus in a horrible off key sing-song. He gives up on the kiss and looks over to see Nightwing and Robin leaning up against each other like old time drinking buddies, grinning at him as if he’s the funniest thing in the world. Heh, he probably is.

He looks back at Bruce and the perspective is wrong. There is a table between them. Oh, he’s back in the hazy dining and there is Scarecrow. Or maybe he’s not back? His bat family siblings are still singing. Wait, they are tied up in chairs to. Okay, fuck it, doesn’t matter how much of this is still part of the delusion. Time to get out of these damned ropes and kicks some ass.

Then he’s going to kiss Bruce for real.


End file.
